


Sucker Punch

by Gato_322



Series: Happy Little Family (Sorta) [1]
Category: Camp Camp (Web Series)
Genre: David Acting as Max's Parental Figure | Dadvid (Camp Camp), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-29
Updated: 2020-07-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:21:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25585087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gato_322/pseuds/Gato_322
Summary: “I punched his goddamn teeth in.” Max curled up against his pillow, avoiding David’s eyes. “Just. I know I have issues but I don’t need people calling me out so soon. Now they’re gonna think I’m some crazy adopted kid that no one wanted and I’m fucking okay with that.”---In which Max causes trouble on the first day of school, but should anyone be surprised?
Series: Happy Little Family (Sorta) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1854346
Comments: 5
Kudos: 86





	Sucker Punch

He hates the principal’s office.

Even before the  _ David-era _ , Max was routinely sent off in a flurry of shocked teacher notes and wary classmate buddies every week. He’d eventually resort to cussing out the big man in charge who didn’t know children, because what the fuck was this education, and detention would be slapped on his record and he’d do it all over again.

This school is different. More well-funded, more diverse. Max doesn’t see it as a  _ good sign _ but it’s relevant to who the big man in charge is.

Turns out, big man in charge is too busy for snot-nosed brats like him.

Max slumps in the nurse’s chair, watching as she hovers around the office like a hummingbird on a mission. She resembles one, too; thin, frail, her nurse’s gown oversized and flapping against her knees. She pays him no extra attention, tending to the new kids who wander in with their upset tummies and scratched knees.

_ As if you’d even know what a real injury is _ , Max drily thinks.

There’s more than just the scrapes on his knuckles and the ice pack pressed to his nose. There’s a deep incessant thrumming in his chest, anxiety and annoyance rolled up into a feeling he can’t shake. Pain that can’t get treated even in normal society, because stigmas run the world or something like that.

“We’re calling your father,” the receptionist at the front desk had said before sitting him down way too harshly and clicking away with her stupid little heels. 

And yeah, Max felt it was 100% up his alley to start a goddamn fight on the first day of school. David shouldn’t be surprised. David shouldn’t even be  _ fucking annoyed _ . David should sigh and shake his head and go, “did you win at least?” But Max knows he’s gonna get a mixed bag. Because well. It’s David. And all the nuances and ticks of his stupidly high emotions are a puzzle Max is slowly piecing together. 

If it’s connected to Max’s well-being, there’s tears. If it’s connected to his emotional health, there’s tears. Okay, there’s always fucking tears. And Max isn’t sure what he’s gonna feel if David comes barging in sobbing like the kid who scraped his knees.

_ Or yelling. Or threatening to ship me away. _

Max heaves a sigh, beginning to annoy the nurse as he kicks scuffed shoes against the tile. The kid he slugged is still behind the principal’s office door and Max vaguely wonders if there’s a hint of justice at this school. Because if words are regarded as weapons, he wasn’t the one to start the fight. But round it back to his fists and he sure as hell was the one to finish it.

Because that’s how it always is, huh? Max saunters in to create his chaos when someone looks at him wrong and he leaves the mess with everyone’s perceptions absolutely fucked. Nikki and Neil learned early on not to press his buttons; and as unhinged and wild as they were, they still saw him as their impromptu leader. Because apparently he was just the scariest of them all and Max doesn’t know how to feel about it anymore.

He sighs again, and the nurse shoots him a look. He squints back at her, fully ready to remark something about her fucked up hairline, but she bends down to help a kid with a bloody nose and he fades into the background again. That in itself also took way too much adjusting; having to assimilate into a crowd again, even though the fact he was  _ a new kid  _ and overly sulky meant he had a big red target on his back.

The teacher said he’d be fine.

_ David  _ said he’d be fine.

But he wasn’t, and his first day of school wasn’t even over yet. Or maybe it was. Maybe Max could figure out how to drop out of school forever, run away and live under a bridge and make money by gambling with strangers. Yeah, he could get behind that.

He hears it. A familiar voice ringing out in the hall and his heartbeat begins to pound in his ears. Max grunts, pulling the ice pack from his bruised nose, and he awaits what’s sure to be a bomb of emotions.

“I’m so so sorry!” David slides into view, looking harried and frazzled and exactly how Max expected. “Max!”

Max huffs at the name that carries unexpected concern and he trains his eyes on his caretaker. “C’mon, David, are you really surprised?”

“Yes!” David puts his hands on his hips, and Max snorts even though it hurts. “Max, the first day of school is supposed to be  _ easy _ !”

“Learn it here, camp man. Days with me are never easy.”

Something in David’s eyes changes but Max doesn’t dwell on it. He’s led from the chair and out of the stupid nurse’s office that smells like bleach. Max casts one last glance at the principal’s office, and smirks when he realizes he’s dodged another bullet.

They pick up Max’s bag at the front desk before filing out into the hall. Lunch was over an hour ago, and the halls are blissfully empty aside from mingling kids and an old janitor who resembles Quartermaster a bit too much. Max shifts the ice pack on his face as they pass bulletin boards of colorful posters, lockers with stupid stickers and magnets, and windows that let him peer into the bigger classes.

He hears the muffled voice of a poor kid reading off a book as they pass the last classroom, and Max finally looks up towards David. He expected a barrage of words. Uplifting poetry or citations from a parenting book or even just casual frustration that Max manages to ream out of every adult but David is silent. 

They’re out in the silent parking lot, scattered with teacher’s cars and various litter. They get into his little used Honda, with the door that always sticks, and Max tucks his ice pack under his arm to free both hands so he can tug it open. 

When the ride home is also silent, Max wonders if he’s really fucked up.

When they pull into the driveway, Gwen’s car is thankfully absent. She’d be the one to start lecturing and ranting and Max would’ve prepared to throw hands again if he had to hear more shouting. But he wants to hear  _ something _ , as he clambers out of the car with his schoolbag slung over his shoulder. 

When they step inside, David closes the door and turns to Max. “Max, we need to talk.”

“Oh thank  _ god _ , I thought you were having a stroke.”

“Max.” David’s tone drops into “oh shit” zone and Max feels that weird pang of fear drive into his heart. “Just...your room or the living room?”

“To what, kill me?” When that doesn’t so much as get him a glare, Max rolls his eyes and heads for the steps.

David follows, and Max feels heavy. The backpack thumping on his back feels invasive and he’d want nothing more than to sling it out the window, flip David off, and shut himself in his room where he doesn’t have to talk his feelings out like a goddamn pansy.

But unfortunately, David  _ tries _ . Which means Max has to try too, in a weird sense of obligation ever since David signed off on adoption papers.

His room is comforting, not yet alienated in it’s afternoon daylight, and Max sinks into his bed. David shuts the door and sits himself on the other end, staring towards the wall.

Max casts him a glance, ignoring the building pain in his nose. David looks lost, almost defeated, and he knows that’s wrong because there’s no way he’s broken him that quickly. “...I uh. I can tell you what happened. Since I bet the receptionist didn’t give a shit.”

David sighs, heavy and forlorn and exhausted, and he nods. “Please do, Max.”

“It was at lunch.” Max wants something to busy his hands and he works with the ice pack. It’s nothing more than a sandwich baggie with ice cubes and he plays with the melting remnants and ignores the numbing of his fingertips. “I sat by myself.”

He always did. For the first day at least. At his old school, he’d used it to survey and classify all the kids, all the troublemakers, all the competition and idiots and potential peers. And he’d tried it again this time, made easier by the fact he held the glory of resting-bitch-face.

“This one kid came up to talk to me.”

Some blond-headed kid with a lopsided smile had approached Max. “Hey. You look dumb and lonely, let’s talk.”

“Fuck off,” Max had hissed. This was a troublemaker. And that stupid nagging voice that’d begun to sprout in his head told him David wouldn’t approve of this.

The kid didn’t listen. Plopped himself down across from Max with a tray full of food. Max didn't have any, David’s heartfelt lunch still packed away in his bag.

“Word says you’re a foster kid.” The blond kid smiled, but it wasn’t friendly. 

“I’m adopted. Fuck off.” 

“You think you’re gonna run this place, don’t you?”

That resonated. It hit a meticulously placed button that people weren’t supposed to reach. Max had felt the anger rise, swell, threaten to spill out in a matter of seconds. 

“Did your old dad hit you? Tell you you had to be the best or something?” The kid took a swig out of a milk carton like it was a beer bottle. “You sound like a bastard, and I hope you know that.”

It was true. It was too true. It was something Max clung for the sake of an identity and for someone to tear away the walls unleashed a primal sense Max hadn’t felt in months. Not since he’d raced for that bus with Nikki and Neil, or unleashed a barrage towards Jermy, or realized David wanted him as his own kid.

“I punched his fucking teeth in.” Max curled up against his pillow, avoiding David’s eyes. “Just. I know I have issues but I don’t need people calling me out so fucking soon. Now they’re gonna think I’m some crazy adopted kid that no one wanted and I’m fucking okay with that.”

“But I wanted you.” David’s voice is soft and fond and Max grits his teeth. “Max, look, I know I’m...I’m not gonna understand. But...you don’t have to keep holding on to an identity you don’t want. You can be you, because you’re safe here. I’m gonna love you for whoever you turn out to be, Max.”

Max emits something close to a growl, swiping at tears that’d ignored his internal plea not to show. “Fuck, I’m not gonna be vulnerable to you, David. You don’t know me.”

“You say that a lot but I don’t think you’ve realized how much I know about you, Max.” David’s scoots closer and Max doesn’t move. “Change is rough. I get that. And I’m okay if we’re gonna have rough patches, I’m not gonna be angry. And I knew that if I walked in there angry or disappointed, you wouldn’t give me a chance.”

“Like I’m a time bomb? Like I’m some fragile little piece of china you’re scared of breaking?”

David has the audacity to roll his eyes. “Max, no one can break you. I just...I wanna be mindful. Of how you’re feeling. Of how I can talk to you like this without you running away. And I’m not gonna blame you if you ever do, because it’s not your fault.”

He remembers the way he’d clung to that stupid kid’s hair, the sting on his knuckles and the elbow to his face and the clattering of food to the floor and children’s screams. Everyone had watched. Some had cheered. And when Max was yanked away, was yelled at by an aide and a lunch lady and a passing teacher, he’d wanted nothing more than to run and hide.

Because it seemed that was who he was, huh? The kid who puffed out his chest, fucked shit up, then disappeared into the night like a badass. Or the kid who got too cocky, lost his shit, and ran away from the repercussions. It hurt, it hurt almost as much as his nose and his head and  _ his heart _ .

“What the fuck did you even want me for?” Max’s voice warbles,  _ ugh god _ , and the tears are thick and hot and traitorous. “You knew what you signed up for. You had a whole damn speech. David, you’re gonna be real fucking disappointed when you can’t fix me.”

“Max, there’s nothing to fix.” David closes the gap, holding Max close, and Max lets himself sink into the reprieve. He’s pressed against David’s flannel for the second time in the day and he’s not sure how to take it. 

There’s definitely things to fix. Things to change. And Max wonders if David’s just lying to save his skin but he’ll worry about it another day.

“I hate that you’re such a try-hard.” Max swallows hard against the lump in his throat. “I’m not...I’m not fucking worth it.”

“You’re always worth it. I’m not giving up on you, you know. That’s not how I am, I’m sure you’ve seen that!” David smiles down at him, waterworks beginning in those stupid green eyes and Max wants to shove him away and kick him and curl up against him and cry.

Instead he simply shuts his eyes and snorts. “David, I think we just need some goddamn therapy.”

“Ohhh yeah, that too.”

“...but thanks.” It burns at his lips but it’s worth saying. “I just...I know it’s hella overdue. But I should say thanks. For adopting my stupid ass and all that shit. Even if it was the worst decision you’ve ever made.”

“I think allowing Campbell back into camp was the worst decision,” David muses but the smile is ear to ear now. “You take your time, Max. We’ll get through this. I just want you to know that it’s a team effort, okay? I’m not gonna leave you to it by yourself unless you need it.”

“Yeah yeah, quit being sappy.” Max pulls away gently, untangling himself from David’s lanky stupid arm and he falls back into the pillow. “My nose hurts and I’m tired.”

“Well, you can nap but don’t expect the next two days to be easy.” David stands up, back to lecture mode and Max groans. “Two day suspension, Max! You’re gonna fall behind, and I’m afraid I’ll need to have Gwen come in tomorrow to start you on your lessons when I go to work.”

“Fuck you. Fuck her.” Max chucks a pillow that David deftly dodges. “That stupid principal probably felt so sorry for that poor adopted kid who has it so hard. I could’ve had it longer and I put that as a  _ threat _ .”

David chews at his lip. “Yeah, we um. We might’ve milked it a little to shorten your punishment. I’m ready to work with you Max, but not to the degree of having to find a whole new school district before your first dang day!”

Max flips two birds with a knowing smirk and David sighs. “Okay. Just. I’ll let you be for now. If your nose gives you trouble, let me know.”

David leaves quietly, shutting the door behind him, and Max collapses back in the bed.

It’s hard. Life is hard. Acceptance is hard, and Max doesn’t want to think about how David cares and tries and soothes and somehow knows how to fucking parent. Full of surprises.

“What a mess,” Max mumbles, catching his reflection in the mirror. “You’re a mess. Shape the fuck up.”

But when he curls up in his blankets and drifts off to sleep, he doesn’t feel so empty.


End file.
